How the Earl Entices Read online

  Chapter 21

  Dear God, where was Ross?

  Grace wrung her hands as she paced the length of the dark studio, unable to sit still. She’d been back for over half an hour, delivered safely to the door by the coachman, just as Christopher had ordered. For all she knew, Kit was still out there lurking in the darkness, keeping watch over her, while Ross was God only knew where. Possibly captured and being taken away to Newgate at this very moment. Or worse. If he’d been found by Wentworth’s men—

  No.

  She wouldn’t let herself consider that! He was fine. He was safe. He was making his way back to her even now through the moonlit streets. He had to be, because the alternative was unbearable.

  She reached the end of the narrow studio and turned back, pacing like one of those animals in the Tower Menagerie that was cruelly trapped in a cage. By a trick of light, her gold dress shined silver in the slant of moonlight that fell through the oversized fanlight above the double doors, and her skirts swished softly with each step and turn. Otherwise, the building was as dark and silent as a tomb.

  Not a tomb.

  She pressed a trembling hand to her forehead. Where was Ross?

  “Grace.”

  She spun around and strangled back a cry of relief.

  Ross leaned against the closed wicket, having entered without her seeing him in her distracted worry. Dark shadows hid his face, but she recognized him from nothing more than his silhouette…the breadth of his shoulders, his chest that narrowed to his waist, his long and muscular legs. Just as she knew him from that inexplicable bond that had connected them since the night he arrived at her cottage. Perhaps even before that. There must have been a reason that fate kept bringing them together at the most important moments of their lives, why she felt as if a silk ribbon tied them together. A ribbon that wound around her even now, drawing her to him with a magical pull she couldn’t resist.

  The air between them crackled with electricity, so much so that the tiny hairs at her nape stood on end. Every inch of her tightened in nervous anticipation, and she’d never felt more alive in her life.

  “I was worried about you,” she confessed in a throaty whisper. She blinked hard to clear away the stinging tears that distorted the shadows until his silhouette was little more than a watery blur, like a ghost in the darkness. “When midnight came and I couldn’t find you—” She choked, too overcome to put voice to her fears.

  As if in answer, he slowly reached inside his jacket and held up a sheath of papers. “The men working with Wentworth. We’ve got their names now.”

  She forced herself to breathe against the riot of her churning emotions, but each inhalation seared her lungs. “The diary?”

  “No.”

  That single word pierced her like a bullet, and she winced at the fierce disappointment that slammed into her. The man she loved had returned safely to her, but without what he needed to save himself. Yet every bit of strength she had was focused on simply remaining standing, instead of falling to the floor in sobbing gratitude for this reprieve, no matter how fleeting.

  Silently, he returned the papers to his breast pocket. Despite the shadows hiding his face, she could feel the heat of his predacious gaze that only grew more intense, more electric, with every pounding heartbeat.

  “Say yes,” he rasped out hoarsely. The soft order drifted through the moonlight and shadows between them, wrapping around her, engulfing her…capturing her. No movement, no other sound. Only the fierce tattoo of her yearning heart and the quiet urging of his deep voice. “Say yes, and let me come to you.”

  Since Sea Haven and the night of the storm, she’d denied herself the pleasure of him because she’d wanted to protect Ethan, because she’d doubted him and the vow he’d made to help her. But tonight, when he’d had the opportunity to leave her, he’d returned. Just as he’d promised.

  All the wariness and fear of making herself vulnerable rose to the surface, all the uncertainty and hesitation—all of it extinguished by the irresistible need to be in his arms. The man she knew she could trust with her life, and her son’s.

  “Yes,” she breathed, so softly that the whisper was barely audible.

  But he heard and stalked toward her, his dark gaze never leaving hers in the shadows. When he reached her, he cupped her face between his hands and seized her mouth beneath his.

  Heat and need flared instantly between them. With a throaty moan, she wrapped her arms around his neck to bring herself against him. The warmth of him reached her through her dress, so did the hardness of his body pressing against the softness of her breasts and thighs as she molded herself against him, to be as close to him as possible.

  “Grace,” he implored in a throaty murmur.

  Knowing what he wanted, she parted her lips beneath his, and his tongue plunged inside. No exploring or teasing licks this time—only hard and desperate thrusts that captured her mouth completely in a singularly focused kiss that left no mistaking the way he planned on possessing all of her tonight. One filled with such desire and longing that she shuddered beneath the intensity of it.

  When he shoved his hands into her hair, pulling the pins loose and scattering them across the floor, she gasped at the rough caress. But he drank in the sound, cupping the back of her head to hold her still as he continued to ravish her mouth.

  She trembled. This wasn’t kissing—this was need. Raw, hungry…desperate. Beneath the onslaught of his kiss, she moaned with increasing desire.

  She tore her mouth away to pant for air, but he gave her no quarter, his hands sliding down her back to cup her bottom through the gold brocade dress as his mouth found her neck. Her pulse spiked beneath his lips. He groaned a satisfied growl as the tip of his tongue flicked rapidly against her throat, as if he could lick up her heartbeat and devour her desire.

  Squeezing her bottom, he pulled her against him. An electric yearning pulsed between her legs at the sensation of his hardening arousal jutting into her belly. Tonight he would be hers. For once there would be no loneliness, no emptiness, no doubt or fear—there would be only Ross, wanting her as a woman, making her feel beautiful despite the scar that marred her. There would be the absolute certainty of knowing that giving herself to him was right and good.

  He trailed his lips over her chin to once more capture her mouth. So very good.

  “You have no idea how much I want you,” she murmured against his mouth.

  His hand swept up her body to grab her neckline and yank it down, revealing a single breast to his eyes. With a wicked grin, he strummed his thumb over the already hard nipple, making it draw up even tighter in the moonlight. “I have a pretty good suspicion.”

  Then he darted his head down to capture her breast in his mouth, sucking so hard and deep that his cheeks hollowed with every fierce pull. She inhaled a shuddering breath when he gave her nipple a sharp nip, followed by a soothing stroke of his tongue that turned her gasp into a whimper.

  Her fingers twisted in his hair, and she arched into him, bringing him even harder against her, thrusting her breast even deeper into his mouth. He drew back his head, releasing her breast from his lips with a soft pop. The circle where his hot mouth had been glistened wet in the moonlight. When he blew against her nipple, the rush of cool air against hot flesh was jarring and flared an unbearable throbbing between her legs.

  “Ross!” She tossed back her head at the exquisite torture. Oh, that mouth! She knew the pleasures it could bring, and she wanted him to lick and suck everywhere, as much as she craved having her own mouth on him.

  Her hands tore at his clothes, fisting his lapels and trying to rip the jacket right off his broad shoulders. She nearly groaned. He’d spent most of the day walking around in practically nothing but those tightly fitted breeches that flaunted his hard thighs and the large bulge of his manhood nestled between, driving her mad with the temptation he presented and the wicked fantasies she’d let spin through her mind. But now that she wanted to give herself to him, to feel bare s
kin against bare skin with no more barriers between them, too many layers kept him from her.

  A cry of frustration poured from her. “Clothes,” she panted out. “I can’t—get them off—I can’t—”

  He grabbed her shoulders and bent her forward over the worktable. His hand yanked at the back of her dress, and the brocade gave way with a loud rip. With her back bare to him, he shoved his hands beneath the gaping bodice and reached around her to clasp both breasts in his hands.

  “Better?” he drawled hotly in her ear as he kneaded her breasts. His fingers teased at her aching nipples, twisting them, pinching and pulling, with an expertise that sent her head swimming. The roughness of his caresses made the ache between her thighs grow more intense, more demanding for release.

  “I meant your clothes,” she protested, closing her eyes against the sweet torment as she lay bent over the table, with Ross’s large body leaning rapaciously over hers from behind.

  He licked between her bare shoulder blades, sending a hot shiver curling down her spine. “But removing yours is so much more fun.”

  A delicious rush of feminine power surged out to the tips of her fingers and toes. “Then remove them,” she ordered, her voice trembling with anticipation.

  With a growl, he grabbed her dress and ripped the fabric, tearing down her back and over her buttocks as they jutted into the air. Another hard tug, and the skirt and petticoat ripped in two all the way down through the hem, leaving her backside bare to the moonlight and to the heat of his gaze.

  The front of her dress fell away from her shoulders, to land in the crook of her elbows as she leaned on her forearms. She was naked now except for her stockings, all of her laid out bare and vulnerable across the table. Like a feast for him to devour.

  “Sweet Lucifer,” he murmured, reverently trailing his hand down her spine, from her nape to that point where it disappeared between her buttocks. Then he caressed his hands over her bottom and down the backs of her legs, to tease at the lace hem where her stockings clung to her thighs.

  But she wanted his hands higher, needed to have him stoking the throbbing ache at her core until the pleasure burst through her.

  In wanton invitation, she stepped her legs apart. “Please.”

  A low groan sounded from the back of his throat, and he swept his hand up between her thighs to cup her sex.

  She quivered against his palm and fought back a shout of joy when he began to stroke his hand against her. Long, smooth caresses, each one growing harder and deeper, until he slid a finger inside her.

  Her breath strangled, all of her tensing at the new intimacy. Then she relaxed with a deep moan and welcomed him into her warmth. A second finger joined the first, stretching her deliciously wider.

  “Do you like that?” he asked, the low rasp of his voice mixing with the wicked teasing of his fingers to melt all the muscles in her belly.

  “Yes! Dear God, yes…” Her heart pounded so hard that she knew he could feel it against his hand that still kneaded her breast, knew that he could feel the ache of desire throbbing against his fingertips. Each teasing retreat brought a swirl of his fingers, each returning plunge a delicious brush against the sensitive bead buried in her folds.

  “You’re so warm and soft,” he murmured incredulously against her bare back. “So unbelievably tight.”

  His words stirred the flames burning at her core. Only Ross could create such sensations of yearning, along with a ravenous need to be satiated.

  “So slippery smooth.” He bit her shoulder, his teeth sinking into her flesh. She jumped beneath him at the jolt of pleasure-pain, and her sex clenched hard around his fingers. She felt his wicked smile spread against her back. “And ready.”

  “Take me.” She glanced over her shoulder at him and pleaded softly, “Now.”

  In the moonlight, she watched him unbutton his trousers. His hand reached inside and pulled himself free from the layers of clothes he still wore while she was so brazenly draped naked across the table before him. Her gaze was riveted on his erection…magnificently masculine, long and hard, with a thick girth that made her tremble. The tip glistened in the moonlight with proof of his desire for her.

  He paused to let her look, a smile quirking at his lips at her shamelessness. Then he stepped forward and guided himself between her thighs, sliding back and forth against her folds from behind until her dew slicked his length. Each forward slide tickled his tip against the aching bead at her core in a fleeting tease that had her writhing against the table in silent pleading for him to give her what she needed. Her body and soul had been waiting for over a decade to quench this thirst, and that it would be with Ross…perfection.

  “Please,” she begged, shaking. The unbearable ache threatened to consume her if he didn’t put out the very fire he flamed. “Ross, please—now!”

  With a single step, he pushed his hips forward and thrust into her. She cried out at being filled so completely, at being stretched open wide to take all of him in, and her body tensed beneath his. Ten years’ abstinence made the moment feel almost like losing her maidenhead again. But this time, she knew what pleasures came next, and there was no fear of making herself vulnerable to him, of showing him with her body the affections she now held for him in her heart.

  The fleeting pain vanished quickly, and in its place came the most wonderful sensation she’d ever known. Ross moved inside her so tenderly that tears formed at her lashes. Her body welcomed his deep and controlled strokes as his hips rocked against her bottom, as his hands soothingly caressed large circles over her bare back. That inexplicable connection they shared bonded them together now, the invisible ribbon that joined them spooling more tightly with each plunge of his manhood into her tight warmth.

  “Better,” she panted out. “Oh so much better!”

  He laughed. The low sound rumbled from his chest and along his erection as it stroked into her.

  His hand slipped around to her front, between her legs to that place where their bodies joined. He delved down to find the engorged bead at her core and rubbed it as he continued to thrust inside her.

  She gasped as the intensity of his touch overwhelmed her. With a yearning cry of capitulation, she grabbed the edge of the table to hold herself down against the unstoppable release—

  She shattered, her hips bucking her bottom against him as the climax overtook her. Wave after gasping wave gripped her and then released with a shudder. Never…never had she felt such uninhibited joy as she did at that moment, with his arms around her and his manhood still inside her, now impossibly harder than before.

  The lips of her sex tightened around him as her body attempted to milk his release from him. But he held himself still in hard-won restraint, gritting his teeth as he let her fall into her own bliss without him.

  When she could find her voice, she whispered, “You didn’t…”

  “Because we’re not finished,” he ground out through gritted teeth.

  Slipping from her warmth with a tortured groan, he turned her to face him, the gold dress falling to the floor at his feet. He set her on the table’s edge and wrapped her legs around his waist, hooking her ankles together at the small of his back. Then he moved forward between her spread thighs, teasing just the engorged tip of his steely hard length into the sensitized folds. She whimpered, greedily wanting him again.

  In one swift, smooth movement, he lifted her from the table and thrust hard, stepping forward to impale her against the wall.

  Holding her pinned in place, Ross thrust into her, hard and fast. All the hot desire and pent-up frustration he’d suffered during their time together surged to the surface, heightened by tonight’s events. The only cure was to take himself as deep inside her as possible.

  She clung helplessly to him, her face buried against his neck as new arousal coursed through her. He heard it in the moans that poured from her and felt it in the tightening of her sex encircling him, even as she grew so drenched that the wet noises of their joined bodies declared
audibly the shared pleasure they were finding in each other. Dear God, what pleasure she gave him! It was all he could do to hold himself back when he’d taken her over the table. But she’d waited a long time for this, and he wanted it to last as long as possible.

  Yet she quickly broke again in his arms, and her body shuddered violently as she clung to him. Her thighs gripped hard against his hips as she quivered helplessly around him.

  Not withdrawing from her, he lowered himself to the floor, bringing her down onto her back beneath him. He grabbed her wrists and pinned her arms over her head.

  She writhed with a low moan, begging for more.

  “Insatiable,” he admonished as he ground his hips down into hers, bringing him inside her to the hilt.

  “I am.” She hooked her left leg over his arm, opening herself wide beneath him. With an appreciative groan, he sank impossibly deeper, eliciting a shudder of pleasure from her. “For you.”

  A growl of masculine pride and possession tore from him. He wanted to claim all of her—body, heart, and soul—and mark her as his. She would never be stolen from him again, and he would never suffer another masquerade at which this amazing woman ended up with another man. She was his. Tonight, tomorrow…always.

  This time when she came beneath him with a cry, he followed after, thrusting deep and holding himself there. His cock jerked in exquisite release, and he poured himself into her. She quivered around him as her body drank him in, and in response, his thighs and buttocks clenched as he strained to empty every drop. Until he’d given her every last bit of himself.

  He collapsed on top of her, his body throbbing from exertion and blissfully tingling with utter happiness.

  He placed a tender kiss to her flushed lips, then lowered his head to her bare shoulder, resting his forehead there as he struggled to calm himself. Good God, how she undid him! He’d never known a woman like her, one who could make him feel strong and masculine with only a glance. One who frustrated him beyond measure yet drove him to bliss when she finally granted release.